


Virtue and Vice

by ghostofshe



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 12:40:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5497409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofshe/pseuds/ghostofshe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vulpes finds Courier Six at Gomorrah</p>
            </blockquote>





	Virtue and Vice

**Author's Note:**

> An originally short idea that became the start of something else. Written for a Tumblr prompt.

The room is dim, even despite the many torches lining the crimson walls burning fervently in their sconces. The single pillar of brightness is the stage, where a woman spins herself on a silver pole to the cheers of the people seated at the tables below her. A dark-haired man sits at the far corner of the bar, taking slow, measured sips of his whiskey. His hair is cropped short, displaying his gaunt features and his sharp blue eyes to the world. He does not look at the show, instead staring at his glass.

One woman sitting near the stage is also not watching the show, she’s watching the man at the bar, waiting. Her right hand grips the pistol hidden inside her duster while the left gently strokes the soft brown hair of her companion, who sleeps soundly with her cheek pressed against the sticky table.

She’s been sitting like this for some time, tensed and ready for a fight, her dark eyes gleaming with hate. The man, although he does not show it, is aware that he’s being watched. He wants to be seen.

The well-dressed ghoul tending the bar slides up to the man. “Another drink?” He asks hoarsely.

The man slides a denarius across the bar. “Send one to the angry looking woman over there. The one whose date has drunk herself unconscious.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you. You know who that is? That’s the Courier.”

“I am aware of that.”

“If that’s the case then you outta know better. Miss Six pays her own tabs and pours free drinks on those who offer them. Plus I once saw her girlfriend there punch some tough-guy so hard in the gut that he passed out and pissed himself.”

“You will be compensated if she pours the drink on you when you deliver it. Now if you could simply heed my request.”

The ghoul snaps up the coin and pours whiskey into a fresh glass. “Whatever pal, you’re funeral.”

He turns and finally meets the Courier’s stare, smiling at her as the bartender sets the drink on the table.

After the bartender flees, Six picks up the drink and rises from her chair. The two don’t look away from one another as she walks up to the bar, gripping the glass hard enough to turn her knuckles white.

“Vulpes Inculta,” she says stiffly.

“Courier Six.” He continues to smile pleasantly at her.

“You must have a death wish. The only way you could’ve been more conspicuous is if you wore your goddamn uniform.”

“Perhaps I should have. The degenerates running this place would gladly serve me either way.” He glances briefly towards the bartender. “Funny that you should hold the Legion in such contempt and yet favor the treacherous scum who run this establishment.”

“I don’t favor them. But they do stay in line.” Six scrutinizes him, irritated to have had her night interrupted by such an unpleasant encounter. “I don’t want your fucking drink,” she says. She holds the glass out to him and Vulpes takes it and sets it on the bar.

“It’s rude to decline a gesture of peace, but I expected as much.”

“What do you want?” Six scowls at him.

Vulpes picks up the drink on the bar and takes a sip. The Courier watches him, hiding her surprise.

“I thought we could have another chat. You and I,” he says. Six tenses, his voice sounds like it did at Nipton, made of cold liquid and warm arrogance. Vulpes suppresses his smirk. “I did so enjoy our last conversation. I remember it fondly, you know. Especially the part where you ran away.”

Six doesn’t even have time to think before she finds herself pressing her revolver into Vulpes’ skull. “Shame you let me go. You missed your only chance to put me back in the ground.” She pulls back the hammer with her thumb.

Vulpes smiles confidently despite the gun in his face. “I have had numerous chances since then. If I wanted you dead, then I would have had you so long before now.” He chuckles softly. “Now, if you could afford me the same level of civility, you might find yourself enticed by what I have to say.”

The Courier grinds her teeth for a moment before sliding the hammer back into place and letting the gun fall to her side. She wants to shoot Vulpes, wants to paint the bar with his brains, but there’s no reason she can’t do so after he finishes speaking his bit. It’ll be easier to enjoy it without having to worry about any unsatisfied curiosity.

She takes the bar stool beside him. “You have five minutes.”

Vulpes decides to cut to the point. “I know that you are responsible for the annihilation of Dry Wells and the Long 15.”

He pushes the rest of the drink towards her and she pounds it back in a single gulp.

“…Go on.”

**Author's Note:**

> Update: I do fic commissions now! [Check it out!](http://wildwildwasteland.tumblr.com/post/172973517581/zs-emergency-fic-commissions)


End file.
